


Curse of the Dreaded Christmas Trolls

by Bulmaveg_Otaku



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Sex Pollen, DLSS2016, Darcyland Secret Santa gift fic, Enchanted Mistletoe, F/M, Loki and Mistletoe have a past, M/M, Matt Faction Hawkeyes, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, but not really, hits of dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulmaveg_Otaku/pseuds/Bulmaveg_Otaku
Summary: Everything happens for a reason.
When she was younger, Darcy had always thought those words implied that there was some unseen, all knowing force manipulating the fate of the universe and all its inhabitants to some cosmically harmonious destination, and perhaps that was still the way people intended it to be taken, but wiser, more world-weary Darcy knew the best way to take that clichéd old platitude had more to do with causality than destiny. She wasn’t sure if she believed in god, or a higher power, (aside from Thor, obviously), but she could get behind the butterfly effect.  Maybe it was just Jane and Eric rubbing off on her, but it made more sense to her to look backwards at all of the individual choices and decisions leading up to an event rather than the omniscient unknowable when it came to figuring out the how, or why, things happened.
Especially when it came to the Mistletoe Incident of 2016.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YoursTruly (Lyscey)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyscey/gifts).



> So this is my Darcyland Secret Santa gift for Yours Truly (@call-me-yt on tumblr)

Everything happens for a reason.

When she was younger, Darcy had always thought those words implied that there was some unseen, all knowing force manipulating the fate of the universe and all its inhabitants to some cosmically harmonious destination, and perhaps that was still the way people intended it to be taken, but wiser, more world-weary Darcy knew the best way to take that clichéd old platitude had more to do with causality than destiny. She wasn’t sure if she believed in god, or a higher power, (aside from Thor, obviously), but she could get behind the butterfly effect.  Maybe it was just Jane and Eric rubbing off on her, but it made more sense to her to look backwards at all of the individual choices and decisions leading up to an event rather than the omniscient unknowable when it came to figuring out the how, or why, things happened.

Especially when it came to the Mistletoe Incident of 2016.

Looking back now, it was pretty clear how all the dominoes had lined up, one leading seemingly seamlessly into the next as things had fallen into place. If any one of the factors had been different, history would almost certainly have been utterly altered, for better or worse.

For exempt, if Steve hadn’t had to postpone their second date on account of being called off to Avenge, or if Darcy hadn’t found Natasha so intimidating, or if Sam hadn’t given Bucky shit about his man-bun… well, things might not have ended up… like they did.

See, it all started because she put Clint and Thor in charge of shopping for Christmas decorations…

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“My Lady Darcy! We have returned victorious from the magnificent treasure hunt for festive adornments!” Thor declared proudly as he let the multitude of shopping bags clenched tightly in both hands fall to the floor in front of the bare tree.

Darcy was across the large space, sipping some yummy caramel apple cider and trying not to stress about getting the common room ready for the holidays. She turned on her stool as Clint walked in behind the tall Aesir, his biceps bulging under his leather jacket as he lowered an armful of boxes next to one of the cozy sofas.

“That’s right, Darce, you’re minions have done your bidding!”  After leaping nimbly over the couch, Clint sidled up to her and tried to stick his cold hands on her neck. She squawked in outrage and dodged out of the way- without spilling her cider- and gave him a glare o’death, which he blatantly remained oblivious to. Grinning at her like an idiot, he took a second to blow hot air into his palms, since she objected so strenuously to him using her nice and toasty neck. “Now, where’s the brownies you offered as reward for services rendered?”

Setting her mug on the island she walked around and opened a cupboard, pulling out two paper plates, both piled high with her highly sought after turtle brownies, but when Clint reached out to grab the one nearest him, she pulled it back out of reach. This managed to make his shit-eating grin slip, ever so slightly.

“You got everything on the list?” she probed seriously.

Clint nodded, pulling a crumpled white square out of his jacket pocket and unfolding it to reveal the list she’d given him this morning, though it now held a column of large check-marks down one side and a few stains to she was going to assume where coffee.

“We were most successful at the Establishment of Macy, which offered nearly all of the items you requested. The rest were not hard to locate with the assistance of JARVIS,” assured Thor.

“Great,” she smiled and started to offer Clint his reward, before pulling it away once again. “And you didn’t get anything that WASN’T on the list, right? I’m not going to find you spent any of my holiday budget on chili pepper Christmas lights, or Miller Light inspired tree ornaments, right?”

Clint winced and looked mildly sheepish.

“Clint-” she growled in a deep warning tone. “What did you get?”

“They were just so cool, Darcy! I couldn’t NOT get them!”

She turned her eyes to Thor, who was smiling at them both fondly.

“How bad is it?” she asked him.

“Not bad at all,” Thor answered. “When we discovered the ornaments which offered homage to our prowess as warriors and protectors, I reminded Barton of your edict not to “get creative” and he acquired them with his own funds. I also made sure he included a few other pieces that I thought were inspired by the others of our acquaintances whom might not have been included in the collection.”

Clint nodded enthusiastically. “We got one for everyone. We even found an iPod ornament for you, O Merciful and Forgiving Darcy! And I did pay for them out of my own pocket, so if you don’t want to use them,” he frowned at his toes and shrugged, “I’ll probably get a tree at my place eventually. Maybe.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, not oblivious enough to miss when she was being played, but knowing when to pick her battles. “Oh, please, I wouldn’t even want to see what kind of Charlie Brown Special tree you might manage to get around to putting up around New Years.” She pretended to consider, then give in. “Alright, as long as you didn’t leave anyone out…”

Clint’s cheesy smile was back in force as he swiped his plate of brownies from her faster that she could even follow with her eyes. “Thanks, Darce! You’re the best!” He was headed for the elevator, one of the rich, chocolaty squares already shoved into his mouth.

“You don’t want to stay and help decorate?” she asked, not desperately at his retreating back.

He mumbled some excuse through his mouthful of caramel and pecan, waving his arms in a way that he probably intended to be helpful, but which wasn’t, and then he was gone.

“Did your mighty All-speak help you with that one?” she inquired, side-eyeing Thor.

“Clinton has a previously arranged engagement with Tony to discuss his Christmas gift for The Fair Kate. Tony is designing a special arsenal for his friend,” he explained.

“Another one?” she wondered incredulously. “How many trick arrows do those two need?”

“All the trick arrows, apparently,” Thor answered, using one of the figures of speech she knew he’d picked up from her, which made her smile proudly.

“Well, you’ll help me, right, buddy? This room is really tall and I kind of have a thing with ladders…” she admitted with a wry twist to her lips.

“Of course, dear Darcy.”

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Well, Clint was right. The Avengers themed ornaments were really cool. What was even cooler were the ones Clint and Thor picked out in addition to the six pack of all the Avengers’ insignia and symbols. There was the iPod one for her, of course, a space one for Jane, a high heel shoe for Pepper, an Air Force insignia for Rhodey, and extra bow and arrow one for Kate, a DNA helix for Dr. Cho from the med lab, and even a red star for Steve’s friend Bucky. They all went on the tree with the lights and silver and white glass balls that she’d actually put on her list.

With Thor’s help, Darcy hung white frosted, green garlands and about 300 miles of silver and white ribbon. She used red, gold, blue, and purple accents lightly, and what she prayed was fairly. There had been contention the year before when Tony had rubbed it in everyone’s face that there were more red and gold decorations which meant she liked him best and that everyone should enjoy their “Iron Man Christmas.” Mostly everyone just rolled their eyes and ignored him, as per usual, but then Clint had started shooting down the red and gold ornaments with rubber bands that he seemed to magic out of thin air.

The whole thing had given her a raging headache and killed her Christmas martini buzz. Hence, equality of representation had become a priority.

Slowly, the piles of bags and boxes on the floor had emptied and shifted as all the decorations went up. It took a good portion of the afternoon, with only a couple of short cider and cocoa breaks, but Darcy thought it turned out rather lovely.

As she was gathering empty shopping bags and stuffing them into one of the larger boxes, Darcy discovered something they’d apparently missed. Something she hadn’t put on the list.

In a clear plastic shell, much like the kind her prom corsage had come in, sat a brilliantly green leaved branch with white, opalescent berries tied in a silver ribbon with a small hook on the end, ready for hanging.

“Thor?” Darcy glared as she spun around to show him the item. “What’s this?”

A rapid-fire bevy of emotions flashed over her large friends face- shock, confusion, anger, sorrow, and resignation before he settled on a small bittersweet smile. “That appears to be mistletoe.” There was obviously a story there, but Thor only tipped his head and examined it closely as he stepped closer. “Is it intended to be a holiday decoration of some kind? I do not believe that was on your list.”

“’Cause it wasn’t,” she agreed. “Traditionally, this devious little plant is used to guilt women into handing out kisses to any guy they happen to be standing next to.”

A smile of conflicted glee crossed his face. “You disapprove, but it lightens my heart to hear it used for such a festive and joyous purpose here on Midgard. There can’t be much harm if you are in pleasant and honorable company.”

“Three words. Clint and Tony,” Darcy said with a glare at the plastic shell in her hand.

Thor chuckled merrily. “I see your point. They can be clever scoundrels, though I know their hearts are in the right place, usually. I did not see Clinton purchase this item, but I admit I was much distracted by the many spectacular offerings available. It is possible he used his training as a spy to get it passed me without my noticing.”

“He’s a sneaky sneaker that sneaks, you mean,” she grumbled. “Well, I’m not putting it up, and if he thinks he is going to get away with this without feeling my mighty feminist wrath, he is sorely mistaken."

 

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“Barton!” Darcy called as she stormed into Tony’s lab. “You got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

She heard a muffled curse and a flash of movement near where Tony was absorbed in soldering a smile vial of bright orange liquid to the underside of one of Barton’s arrowheads.

“What did the birdbrain that is definitely not hiding under my mini particle accelerator do now?” The billionaire asked casually.

“Traitor,” Barton muttered as he stood up. “What’s up, Lewis?” His innocent, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth expression wasn’t fooling anyone. “For the record I haven’t done anything. Lately. I don’t think?”

His eyes jumped down and his hands jumped up as she shoved the offending package at him. “Wanna tell me where this came from, then?”

He looked at it blankly, brow twitching in confusion. “Is this mistletoe?” He asked after a pregnant moment. “I thought mistletoe had red berries.”

“No, that’s holly,” Darcy and Tony said simultaneously.

Clint seemed genuinely confused by the small sprig, so she turned her eyes to her second suspect. “Tony? I thought you said you were going to stay out of the party planning this year.”

“No, _you_ said I was going to stay out of the party planning this year, which I was going to mostly follow, but I was planning on spiking the punch bowl. I have no desire to have the female population of my tower ganging up to lecture me on the follies of outdated and misogynistic traditions. Plus, I have Pepper for all my smooching needs.”

She narrowed her eyes at the two of them. Either her bullshit-meter was on the fritz or they were both being honest.

Finally, she threw up her hands and sighed in frustration.

“Then where did it come from?”

If it wasn’t Clint or Tony or Thor…

Clint cleared his throat and looked shifty. “I don’t know for sure… But it might have been Nat.”

“What? No! Why would The Black Widow sneak mistletoe into my Christmas decorations? That doesn't’ make any sense-” Darcy’s voice trailed off as she caught the way Clint wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What do you know that I don’t?”

The archer grinned slyly. “So many things, Darce. I could tell you but then I’d hafta kill-” He cut off as she snatched the plastic shell and its contents from his hand and punched him in the meat of his right pectoral. “Ouch!” He rubbed the place she’d hit him and frowned like a kicked puppy. “Mean!”

Tony snorted and Darcy lifted her fist to hit him again.

As he danced back from her threat, Clint spilled the proverbial beans, “Natasha likes to meddle, okay? She’s been trying to set Steve up for ages and since you guys are sort of a thing she’s probably just trying to push the two of you along. She mentioned something about Steve moving too slow and how he was gonna screw it all up. Also, did I say ouch? Because ouch!”

He continued to nurse his injured chest while Darcy chewed over his words, and incidentally, the corner of her lip. She hadn’t known everyone in the tower knew about her and Steve, though she probably should have. They’d only been on one date. One awkwardly delightful coffee date where she’d been too star-struck to break his nervous tension until they’d spotted Barnes and Wilson spying on them from the hot-dog stand across the street and had conspired to lose their nosy tail by slipping out the backdoor to the alley way and made a run for it, laughing all the way.

The rest of the afternoon had been spent walking around Central Park trying to ignore the cold while they chatted and got to know each other better, all while keeping their eyes peeled for well-meaning jerks that needed to mind their own business.

Steve walked her to her door after, giving her a warm hug in goodbye after asking for a second date. She’d wanted him to kiss her almost as badly as she wanted to stay mindful of his 40’s sensibilities. So she’d just hugged him back and agreed to the second date.

Darcy had lost about seventy percent of her star struck weirdness around him and he’d seemed to open up as she’d asked him about his art and about his friends and his favorite things about the city, so she considered it good progress.

Then their second date had to be postponed so Captain America could thwart Crossbones and his latest attempt at murder and mayhem, and then the holidays had rolled around and things between them were sort of…stalled out? They had plans to meet at the party tonight. The remaining thirty percent “oh my god, he’s Captain America” kept her from agreeing to let him pick her up, though. The idea of walking into a Christmas Party thrown by Tony Stark on the arm of America’s Most Patriotic Bachelor made her start pinching herself and question her sanity just a little. She wasn’t quite there, yet.

Still…

“I better not find out it was one of you after all,” she said, spinning on her heel. “And Tony, you don’t need to spike the punch, dumbass. It’s open bar.”

Her parting shot was met with a barely audible, “Killjoy!” as she made her way down the hall to the elevator.

When Darcy was back in the common room, she eyed the finished product with self-satisfied pride and joy. Thor had finished cleaning up and everything looked like a frosted winter wonderland.

She walked up the ramp to the upper deck for a better view. As she leaned on the balcony railing, the clear plastic package clutched in one hand, she considered her options.

Despite the fact that she _really_ didn’t like the idea of women being pushed into handing out kisses in the name of tradition, (This was reasonably due, in a large part, to the fact that Darren Gard had cornered her during her 8th grade Winter Ball and shamed her into letting him lay one on her- which had ended disastrously with him also coping a feel and then telling all his friends she was a total tease after she pushed him away and punched him in the chest, whatever.) but she had to admit that it would probably be a much different experience at a party of close friends rather than horny teenage assholes.

She _mostly_ trusted the guys not to act like horny _adult_ assholes.

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get stuck underneath it with Steve.

Otherwise, it might be weeks before they managed to get to that point.

Steve was a traditional type guy, right?

Opening the plastic box with a crack and a pop, she took the small hook between her thumb and index finger.

Besides, there was no way in hell she wanted to defy The Black Widow.

Darcy leaned through the railing and lowered the hook to the edge of the platform.

 

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Darcy smoothed the crimson satin of her dress down over the front of her thighs and watched the numbers on the elevator panel rise. The normally quiet ride was filled with the deep, sweet tones of Karen Carpenter endorsing the merits of roasted chestnuts and Jack Frost. When the numbers stopped at the communal floor and the doors opened the same music flooded in, even louder from the room ahead, mixed with the sound of laughter and familiar voices, as well as the scent of pine and cloves.

She steeled herself and stepped off.

Jane and Thor were over by the tree on the other side of the space. He seemed to be pointing out the ornament they’d gotten for her and Jane’s face was glowing with delight. Next, Darcy’s eyes fell on Tony and Pepper over by the bar. She was smiling fondly as he jerked a martini shaker up and down, doing a fair impression of Brian Flanagan.

When she spotted Steve, he was looking sternly at Wilson and speaking in a low voice she couldn’t hear, but she could see the way his eyes kept tracking over to arch that lead to the elevator and the hallway with the bathrooms. He hadn’t seen her yet, and for a second her stomach lurched as she thought he might be looking for her.

That’s when she spotted the shadow pouting over by the window at the end of the short hallway to her right. Bucky was there, using his reflection to remove an elastic from his hair, pulling out the small man-bun, and running his fingers through his locks to tame them back into their normal drape around his face and shoulders.

Smiling faintly as she recalled Steve talking about how Bucky used to be “such a damned peacock,” Darcy stepped towards him. Her heart was simultaneously pleased to witness a returning vestige of his old personality and cracking at the seams to see the flash of insecurity in his actions and expression.

“Hey, Bucky,” she greeted, her voice low and quiet on the off chance that he hadn’t noticed her approach. She didn’t know him super well, since he still kept mostly to himself around the tower, but they were friendly. He was important to Steve and she liked the way he teased and tormented him and Sam whenever she saw them out and about together. He seemed a good egg with a rocky past, some of which she’d gotten from the memo SI HR sent around after he’d turned himself in and moved into the tower, some she’d been told by Steve, and a few unreliable bits she’d picked up around the water-cooler, so to speak.

Bottom line, she liked him and wanted to help him and be his friend.

Plus, he was very pretty.

If she hadn’t been crushing on his best friend for well over a year, she might have set her eyes on this tall drink of water instead, though she felt slightly guilty for thinking that. Not just out of loyalty to Steve, even with their slow-moving courtship leaving them in limbo, but because Bucky clearly was dealing with his own shit and didn’t need a moon-eyed fangirl obsessing over him and stalking him like a creeper.

Regardless, she still felt like it was her job to make sure he felt welcome.

“Oh, hey, Darcy,” he said sheepishly, running his right hand down over his hair once more and turning to face her, a self-deprecating twist on his lips.

“What’re you doing out here, silly? Party’s that way,” she teased with a jerk of her head towards the archway and the festive sights and sounds beyond.

He glanced over his shoulder at his reflection again, and though his body remained still, she could tell he was resisting the urge to fidget. “Just trying to tame the mane, doll. Stevie made me wash it, now I can’t do nothing with this unruly mop,” he joked, but a tightness around his eyes belied his casual tone.

“Want some help?” she offered, matching his lightness. “I know a thing or two about unruly mops, trust me.” She tugged at the end of one of her long curls. She’d spent more than an hour on her hair alone- washing, drying, straightening, twisting, curling and styling it carefully.

“Oh, uh-“ he winced and his eyes flickered between her and the window rapidly.

She could tell he was slightly uncomfortable about the idea, but she pressed on, knowing she could help repair whatever damage that knucklehead Wilson had done. (This assumption was made based on the disappointed face Sam was still getting from Captain Rogers.) “Here, just-“

Reaching out her hand she moved slowly as she approached. He didn’t flinch or step away, so she pulled the hair-tie from his wrist gently and ran a hand up to comb her fingers through his forelock.

Immediately, she noticed a problem.

Even in her heels he was too tall for her to reach the top of his head comfortably.

“Can you, uh, maybe, kneel down?” she prompted nervously, but he only nodded and dropped to his knees, tucking his chin against his chest.

With an approving nod, she combed his hair back from his face, putting it in order as she gathered it at the crown of his head.  Darcy made sure not to tangle or tug as she got every strand back into a knot and started looping the tie around it.

When it was all secured, she fluffed it artfully, pulling here, tucking there, and getting it just right. She stepped over his legs as she walked around him, getting the full view before she patted his shoulder and nodded.

“Perfect,” she grinned, looking down into his eyes. “Wanna see?”

Stepping back, she let him stand and watched his face in the window as he turned to inspect her work. Bucky’s fingers traced a tendril next to his ear and tucked it back before turning to her with a skeptical expression.

“You sure it’s not too… messy?” he asked.

“Nah,” she said, stepping next to him to check her make-up and tuck a length of her own brunette tresses behind an ear. “Messy is the new sexy, you know. Makes you look very casual, like you’re too cool to care, but also so hot it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh,” he grunted, his eyes moving back to their reflection one last time. If he was affected by her easy compliments, it didn’t show. “Great! Guess I’m ready to go in then,” he admitted, holding out an elbow to her gallantly and flashing her a cocky grin.

“That’s more like it,” she laughed and took his arm.

They made a grand entrance together, pausing to look over the room before making their way into the room.

“Can I get you a drink?” her escort inquired as they approached the long, sleek bar against the wall on their left.

Nodding, Darcy’s eyes caught Steve’s. He nodded and gave her a grateful smile mouthing, “thank you.” Warmth flooded her chest, and she tried desperately to force down the blush that threatened her cheeks.

“Hold it right there!”

Darcy and Bucky both jerked to a halt and looked over at Tony, who had leaped over the bar after shouting loudly at them, drawing the attention of the whole room.

“What?!” she demanded, heart racing at the abrupt command.

The smirky genius pointed over their heads, making their necks tip back in unison as they discovered why he was making such a scene. Apparently, in all the fuss over Bucky’s hair and feeling like she was walking on air over Steve’s approval, she’d forgotten about the one thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t forget about.

The mistletoe.

“Shit-“ she hissed quietly on her exhale and turned a vicious glare in Tony’s direction. Bucky must have heard her, because he tensed up and leaned away from her, his arm dropping to his side.

“Don’t worry, Darcy, we don’t have to-“ he started, but was cut off by Stark, who was closing in quickly.

“Sure you do,” the goateed trouble maker insisted. “It’s tradition. Besides, my house, my rules. Looks like you caught the wrong twin pop, Lewis, but I’m sure one octogenarian smooch is much like the next. Maybe you’ll make Cap jealous. Oooooh, was that your master plan? Have I just exposed your evil genius?”

“Shut up, Tony,” she huffed. After a deep breath she turned to look up at Bucky. “I’m sorry, Buck. I totally forgot about that. If you don’t want to-“

But Tony would not be shushed.

“If you don’t want to, you’re obviously blind and stupid! Look at her. She’s killin’ it tonight. Really, Lewis, you look amazing. You should throw Soulja Boy 2.0 here a bone and let him get a little lip-lock before his bestie takes you off the market for good. It’s only fair-“

Darcy shut her eyes as Tony attempted to get everyone else to chant, “Kiss the girl! Kiss the girl!” (which Clint and Sam joined in on enthusiastically, but everyone else rolled their eyes at) This was exactly the kind of thing she had feared and dreaded and she cursed her own stupidity and prayed for patience.

When she opened her eyes, though, she found Bucky smiling down at her fondly. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Darce, but-“ he shrugged helplessly and glanced over at Steve who was shaking his head in exasperation at his teammates’ antics.

“It’s tradition, ya jerk,” Steve called. “I know your mama taught you better than to leave a lady hanging.”

Darcy sighed one last time and shrugged. It seemed the whole world was conspiring against her. Even her own past self.

Still, if Steve was cool with it than she really had no objection. Just one quick kiss and then she could avoid this spot for the rest of the night.

She stepped into him, feeling his hand come up to cup her elbow and tilted her face to him, letting her eyes drift shut.

Bucky lowered his lips to hers, his own stomach swirling with nervous butterflies. He could hear the chanting grow louder and he intended follow through with a nice, chaste peck on the lips.

Only that isn’t what happened.

The instant their mouths made contact everything else- the chanting, the scent of gingerbread, the lovely Christmas decorations, and the eyes of their friends, all of it- melted away and ceased to exist to the two of them.

Bucky’s whole world became kissing Darcy.

For a second, he froze as his head spun and everything tilted on its axis and then realigned, centered on the woman in front of him. His grip on her arm tightened ever so slightly and he leaned into her, his left arm coming up to rest lightly on her face.

Bucky’s hand slid behind her neck and deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip out to taste her. She parted her lips instantly, opening up for him beautifully and he delved right in. This amazingly kind and gorgeous gal was like oxygen. He couldn’t get enough.

He felt her hands slide up around his neck and twine in the very same tendrils of hair she arranged so purposely only minutes before. Sighing in delight, he bent, hitched his arm around the back of her thighs, and pulled her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

Bucky didn’t care that his hair was getting messed up. He didn’t care about the way her dress hitched up around her hips and threatened to flash the entire room, and he didn’t care about the way everyone had gone silent in shock, looking between him and Darcy and his best friend Steve, who’s face had crumpled in confusion and betrayal.

All he cared about was getting more of Darcy.

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“What the hell?“

“Uh, Barnes-“

“Whoa!”

“They’re really going to town…”

Steve felt numb as he watched his best friend and his- well, not his girl, not really, but the girl he wanted to be his- make out vigorously. It didn’t seem real, didn’t make sense. It had to be a joke, right? Some kind of Christmas prank?

“Okay,” he said, forcing a strained smile and crossing his arms over his chest. “Very funny, you guys. Ha ha ha.”

“Uh, Steve,” Sam said, voice unsure as Bucky picked Darcy up and pulled her closer. Their kissing was rapidly moving from vigorous to pornographic, and Steve watched on stupidly as Bucky’s hand slipped down to cup and squeeze her breast.

“Bucky!” he shouted, outraged for a whole plethora of reasons. “That’s enough!” There was no way this was a simple prank. Something was wrong.

Pushing around a stunned, silent Tony, he reached out and gripped Bucky’s wrist, pulling his hand away from Darcy’s chest and trying to push between them, to pull Darcy away. The second his hand touched bare skin, though, it was like a charged, static shock jumping to him and he felt the need to put his lips on them, both of them.

With their mouths currently occupied, however, Steve made do with what he had.

 

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“Uh, guys, I applaud your dedication to tradition, really I do, but could you _NOT_ defile each other in the middle of my Christmas party? Save it for the end. Or, you know, go get a room,” Tony babbled, his shock having worn off. Sort of.

It was still pretty weird watching The All-American Virgin neck with Boobs McLabAssistant and the Winter BooBear, but he was trying to go with it. He’d seen, (and done,) much stranger, socially unacceptable things in his time. As things went on, and got more uncomfortable for the rest of them, and more aggressive between the mistletoe trio, he realized how totally out of character this was for all three of them.

Steve was now wrapped around Darcy’s back, his mouth sucking on her shoulder, with one hand on the breast not occupied his friend’s, and the other tugging at the hem of her already-too-short skirt.

Something was very, _VERY_ wrong.

It seemed Wilson was coming to roughly the same conclusion.

Sam pushed around him and reached out the same way Steve had, only to have Thor grip his shoulder and tug him back out of range.

“I would not touch them, Son of Wil. This reeks of mystic tampering, and I would rather not have four of our number so enthralled.” He turned to Clint then. “My friend, were you responsible for acquiring the mistletoe as Lady Darcy suspected?”

The archer held up his hands innocently and shook his head. “No, it wasn’t me, or Tony. I told her it was probably Nat-“

They all turned to the red-headed woman standing with Bruce next to the refreshment table.

“It wasn’t me,” she declared sternly. “You think someone planted enchanted mistletoe for Darcy to find and now it’s making the three of them- what? Crazed with lust?”

Thor winced, but nodded. “Were my brother still live I would suspect him of this mischievous deed. He had a history with this plant, and this seems just like the effects of a spell he once cast on Fandral and the dwarf Aslaug Dvalinnsdötter. I know not how this came to be here or why, but if it is the same enchantment it should be broken when they reach completion.” (This was, in hindsight, one of the many clues Thor ignored that his brother might, in fact, still be alive. Again.)

“Soooooo-“ Tony said after another awkward silence broken only by the soft moans and wet mouthy noises coming from the three still standing under the pesky culprit hanging from the balcony above, “We should just… leave them to it, then?”

He pouted for a minute. The party was totally ruined, and, for once, it wasn’t because he had engaged in public indecency. Cap and his frosty sidekick were totally stealing his thing. Rude.

Time was out to consider other options, however. Shirts were coming off now, and, yep, that was Darcy’s underwear.

“Everyone out!” Pepper called and Tony could only agree, and make a hasty, strategic retreat.

 

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When reason returned to Darcy she was draped over the bar, her clothes gone, her hair a mangled mess, her skin glowing with perspiration, and her head hanging over the other side giving her an upside-down view of the empty common room. Bucky was lying across her hips in an equal amount of disarray, and, if her memory was correct, Steve was sprawled out behind the bar.

She heard him groan and knew her memory was accurate. Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, she wasn’t sure, yet, but as soon as she could muster the energy, she’d attempt an escape to go hide and wallow in her horrified embarrassment at having just had a rather spectacular, though inadvisable, threesome with her crush and his best friend.

A warm, strong hand gripped one of her ankles lightly and a calloused thumb caressed her ankle. “Darcy, love, are you-” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “Are you okay?”

She choked back a laugh that was only twenty percent sob and flung an arm over her eyes. “Can’t feel my legs,” she admitted. “That was-”

“Amazing? Incredible? Hotter than hell?” Bucky muttered from where his face was smooshed against the bar. “God, Steve and I- We have done something like that since…” His voice trailed off and Darcy felt her brain come to a full record-scratching halt.

“1945,” Steve answered wistfully. “I didn’t know you remembered that,” he finished as he popped his head up, coming shakily to his knees.

Bucky lifted his head with a rakish smirk. “Don’t sell yourself short, Stevie. The question is, how could I ever forget?”

Darcy lifted her head to look between them. The two of them had been almost as enthusiastic with each other as they’d been with her, but she’d just assumed that was part of whatever had come over them, and by extension, another reason to transfer to northern Alaska.

“Wait, you two used to-”

Bucky turned his sexy smile on her. “Oh, yeah. I mean, how could I resist. Especially when he does that thing with his fingers…”

Darcy nodded in total understanding and let her head fall back over the side of the bar once more. This was too much to process right after the best orgasm of her life. Hands down.

“That is- wow, I can’t even-” she started, but Bucky cut her off.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, doll. I promise not to get in the way. Steve’s gone over the moon and back again for you, and I know he deserves someone good and kind and amazing, like you,” he said, nuzzling his face against the side of her breast. “I’ll do my best not to get too jealous of his good fortune,” Bucky teased.

“But you guys have so much history!” She blurted, cupping the back of his head with one hand and running her fingers through his hair. “And you deserve to be happy, too! After all you’ve been through, I don’t mind if you guys want to- I don’t know- rekindle what is probably the greatest romance of all time. Who am I to stand in the way of all that,” she added mournfully,

There was a thunk as Steve dropped his head against the bar. “Please tell me you two aren’t going to make me choose between you? If you start arguing about who has to stay with me, I think I might just throw myself out the window.”

Bucky snorted against her side. “Wouldn’t be the first time, punk.”

“But you guys need each other,” Darcy whispered, loss already squeezing tight in her chest.

“I need you both,” Steve insisted, lifting his head and running his hand up the back of her calf. “And Bucky needs you, too. You’ve been so good with him, and I know he thinks the world of you. He’s the one that convinced me to pull my head outta my ass and ask you out in the first place, you know.”

She felt soft, wet lips kiss gently against her knee and shivered.

“Can’t you find it in your heart to need us too, Darce? Both of us? Just a little?”

Hope can be a dangerous thing.

Still…

“Tell you what. I think I can move my toes again. Help me up and we can go back to my place to talk it over,” she concluded, not having the strength, or the will to fight Steve Rogers on his knees, giving her puppy dog eyes.

“You mean it, doll?” Bucky whispered, looking down at her, his blue eyes wide and shining.

“Sure, on one condition.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Steve inquired, smiling broadly.

“We have to burn that damned mistletoe!”

There was a pause and then both men started to laugh.

“That sounds a bit ungrateful, Darce,” Bucky chuckled.

“There’s grateful, and then there’s irresponsible. It’s one thing that our potentially disastrous situation turned out with the best possible outcome imaginable, but let’s not tempt fate, okay?”

“Fair enough,” Steve agreed with good humor. “We’ll leave irresponsible to Stark.”

 

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So, yeah, sure, _technically_ it was because of a higher power. Darcy knew Loki loved to think of himself as one, but she was only willing to give him some of the credit.

After all, there were so many other factors to consider.

Clint being a total troll.

Tony being a total troll.

Sam being a total troll.

(God, they needed new friends…)

The point was, Loki wasn’t the only one to blame for Darcy dating two incredibly hot super soldiers.

That asshole would just have to learn to share his bridge.

**Author's Note:**

> So the whole mistletoe/Loki thing is from actual facts Norse Mythology. I learned so many things about mistletoe while writing this fic. It's sort of fascinating. If you're interested you can look up the death of Baldur.


End file.
